Hurtling Through Time

Somehow

through the years

We lost the ability to go slow

to wait

to do nothing

to be idle

.

There seems to be an unseeing string of force

pulling us ahead

reeling us in

faster and faster

we are spun/turned

wound tightly around our worries/duties/unending to-do list/social obligations/work/work/work

And we try to hurl through life

dragging everything everyone with us

.

We say to the little children

Why are you so slow?

Hurry up!

I don’t have time for this!

eat faster/change your clothes faster/walk faster/you are making me late/stop dawdling

.

Little did we know

The speed we are going is exhausting

our souls

.

We are not saving time

but shedding our souls

And you wonder why we feel so empty inside

As you look into the mirror

you wonder who is this

what is missing

.

I know my soul is sitting

in front of that window

when I was five years old

watching the tropical rain falling

falling/f a l l i n g/f a l l…i n g…

its rhythm a comforting hymn

The wind joined in

so the rain sang a natural crescendo, decrescendo

and they danced a playful duet

swaying this way and that

drenching everything in their love

My soul is still there watching

perhaps dancing to their beat

.

The speed we are going

is only hurtling us toward emptiness. darkness. death.

Don’t you know what are we chasing after?

Hurry, does not beat time

.

Take your children’s hands

Let them guide you

Go slowly and gently

into the world

sit

and simply watch

.

Perhaps in time our souls will catch up

Perhaps then we can finally

feel deeply

live fully

be

complete

.

Note: this poem is inspired by the children’s picture book: The Lost Soul by Olga Tokarczuk. “You must find a place of your own, sit there quietly and wait for your soul.”